


Closer

by Eggling



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Bedsharing, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggling/pseuds/Eggling
Summary: In which the Doctor initiates bedsharing for the flimsiest of reasons. And pines a bit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for [penny-anna](penny-anna.tumblr.com).

The guard shoved them into the cell with rough carelessness, vanishing with a yawn and a jingle of keys. Jamie turned to glare at the door as if it had offended him personally, rubbing at one shoulder and clenching his fist in a way the Doctor knew meant that he wished for a knife in his hand. To be fair, he was reflecting on the usefulness of a knife himself, though perhaps for less violent reasons than Jamie was. If only they had not been stripped of anything useful – if he had not lost his coat, somewhere along the way…

“Let me see that,” he murmured, shuffling over to Jamie’s side and pawing at his arm a little hesitantly, trying to distract him from his clear displeasure.

“Och, I’m fine,” Jamie muttered automatically, though he winced as the Doctor prodded at the offending area.

“No, you’re not,” the Doctor said. “Let me see.”

Jamie huffed indignantly, but pulled his shirt off anyway, letting it dangle from one hand, brushing against the stone floor. The Doctor gently ran his fingers over the red patch of skin, then tapped Jamie’s shoulder as if in dismissal.

“Not too bad,” he informed him. “I imagine it will bruise a little, but not too badly. You got lucky,” he added, frowning at Jamie as if expecting him to repent. “Running straight at the Adix’ar like that. It could have killed you – or at least given you worse injuries than bruises!”

To his surprise, Jamie blushed furiously and averted his gaze. “Well… I couldnae let ye get hurt, could I?” he said quietly, balling up his shirt and tossing it onto the bare table. He glanced around at the room, seemingly desperate to look anywhere but at the Doctor, then paused and looked around a second time. “There’s only one bed.”

“Well, I dare say we’ll manage, the Doctor replied. “It’s hardly the worst of our worries. Now, do you think Ben and Polly will manage to find the right place to bail us out?” He snorted indignantly. “Imagine! Us saving this planet from a possible invasion, and they treat us like this!”

“Aye.” Jamie grinned at him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It’s like they dinnae appreciate all the hard work ye put in to save them.”

“Oh, hush, Jamie.” The Doctor’s voice was irritable, but his eyes twinkled playfully as he sat down beside Jamie. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They remained in silence for a moment, neither quite sure of what to say. Jamie tugged at the hem of his kilt for want of something to do with his hands, shooting sideways glances at the Doctor and then quickly looking away again. Perhaps, the Doctor thought, he ought to do something. Perhaps this was the moment in which to act. He could easily lean over, with Jamie sitting just there, bottom lip caught between his teeth and his hair falling into his eyes just so, and -

“Well, I think we ought to get some sleep,” he announced a little too loudly, standing up and clearing his throat. Jamie shrugged, then stifled a yawn. _No, don’t_ , the Doctor told himself firmly. _Don’t think about it. Don’t think about how his eyes crinkle when he yawns, or how sleepy his voice sounds afterwards. You know this can never be._

“Is there another blanket?” Jamie looked around the room, blinking rapidly in an attempt to keep his eyes open. “I’ll take the floor, ye don’t have tae -”

“Don’t be silly, Jamie,” the Doctor replied firmly. “Your shoulder, remember? The bed’s perfectly big enough for both of us.”

Jamie opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. “Oh,” he said after a moment. “Oh. Aye, alright, then.”

* * *

The Doctor had only intended to sleep for an hour or so, but judging by the lightness of the sky it was closer to three or four in the morning. He stretched like a cat waking from a nap, and rolled over to find himself nose-to-nose with the rough stone wall. He stared at the wall for a moment, trying to comprehend how it had moved within only a few hours. He was certain that when he had fallen asleep, it had not been quite so close – nor had the blanket slid halfway off the bed, the pillows been strewn across the floor, or something warm and heavy been resting across his stomach.

Looking down, he saw Jamie, hair ruffled and snoring quietly. The fact that the Doctor did not require sleep every night did not mean that being forced awake by cold and discomfort was any more pleasant, and he had been prepared to simply shove Jamie back towards his side of the bed and be done with it. But he looked so peaceful, and as the Doctor made as if to gently move him, he rolled over and clutched at the Doctor’s shirt with one hand.

“Oh,” the Doctor murmured. “Oh, alright then.” He reached down to drape the blanket back over both of them, and delicately pulled Jamie back up the bed. As if by instinct, Jamie nuzzled into his chest, arms wrapped tight around the Doctor, who turned his head slightly to kiss Jamie on the forehead.

“Mmph.” Jamie opened his eyes at this, looking up at the Doctor with sleepy affection, still half-dreaming. “Is it morning?”

“No,” the Doctor replied, absently running a hand through Jamie’s hair. Jamie made a happy little noise at this, pressing himself closer.

“Couldnae sleep?” he mumbled into the Doctor’s chest.

“No, I -” The Doctor was too distracted to explain the details of his own biology to Jamie. “Something like that.”

“Hm. I know the feeling.” The Doctor was unsure what to say to this, so he settled for gathering Jamie closer to him. “Doctor?” Jamie’s voice was heavy with tiredness now. “I like this.”

“Oh.” The Doctor chuckled, trying to suppress the painful fact that Jamie would probably not remember this in the morning – that he almost certainly did not mean it. “I like it too, Jamie.”

“Good.” Jamie shifted, tucking his head under the Doctor’s chin and humming in contentment.

They barely talked after that, neither wanting to break their companionable silence. The Doctor simply wrapped his arms around Jamie more tightly, suddenly resolving to make the most of what precious little time they had left like this, wrapped in their own small bubble of a world. Despite being locked up, awaiting rescue, everything seemed possible in that cell, with the stars just visible beyond the barred window, and Jamie’s warmth beside him. They could escape every danger, every brush with death they faced, run hand in hand forever across a million worlds. This feeling of safety and contentment never had to end.

Perhaps, if he was lucky – luckier than any of the unknowing millions they had saved – Jamie could love him, too.


End file.
